


First Heat: False-Starts and Other Troubles at the Gates

by Omnibard



Series: The Galactic Dark Horse [1]
Category: Invasion America (Cartoon)
Genre: Alien Technology, Aliens, Choices, Intergalactic Warfare, Leaving Home, Multi, Save The Earth, What makes a hero?, host bodies, incorporeal beings, missing people, psychic powers, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Carter vanished with his mom and his entire house.  Even before that there were some strange things going on!  Jim Bailey, David's best friend, is witnessing some OTHER strange things while David is off on his whirlwind adventure (as documented in Invasion America the animated mini-series canon).<br/>[WARNING: In this book there is quite a bit of double-writing from the canon.  Characters do and say as they do and say in the canon.  I do not own any of the characters except those in the "notes" sections, or Invasion America.  All of that belongs to the associated copyright holders.  Later books will have far less double-writing.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Carter House

**Author's Note:**

> OCs: Metiec, Telsus (James Bailey)
> 
> Original Species (OS): Sle'ek

Through great effort, Metiec drifted toward the sounds and sensations of conflict.  Toward Rita Carter’s threats, pitched in a voice strained with equal parts fear and rage.

“I’ll _never_ let you have him!”

Metiec had to reach her and make her understand in a hurry.  He had to receive her Consent.  Either her or David Carter, and Metiec rather preferred Rita Carter.  There were already two inherent natures with opposing desires within the youth.

Metiec slithered through the air, straining urgently against the coastal breeze coming off the bay water.  But it was no use; _sle’ek_ were not known for speed or stamina.  They weren’t really known for _anything_.  Or _at all_ for that matter.

A rush of light and boiling-hot energy suddenly pooled out from within the house as the _sle’ek_ made the doorjamb.  It blinded the _tactiles,_ causing them to flinch away, but Metiec was seared as the power of the orb resonated outward on a sub-atomic level and at rapidly modulating frequencies.

 _/No.  Wait._ / It reached despite the near-paralyzing sensation that was the closest sensation the _sle’ek_ could relate to ‘pain’ outside of a host.  Metiec’s request must be made known.  Rita Carter’s Consent must be acquired!

 “Yes,” The woman breathed gazing at the glowing orb.

/ _Please._ / But the _sle’ek_ knew it was too late.  It could feel the rapid separation of atoms, felt the mounting gravitational forces shifting.

Then screaming.  Ripping.  Crashing.  Chaos.  A blinding whirlwind of power and howling destruction.  Metiec, too, was dragged toward the imploding nexus of energy that steadily and violently tore the material plane a gouging wound in a vacuum.  Only by shifting its own frequency did the _sle’ek_ manage to use the polarity of the nexus as a gravity assist to be flung _around and away_ from the well as opposed to being drawn _into_ it.

Metiec sensed that somehow, David Carter also managed to escape the power of the gravity well.  Then again, the _sle’ek_ knew that he was the Tyrusian heir-apparent—half-breed or no—the only son of Cale-Oosha.  Metiec knew, even now as David Carter did _not_ , that his real name—as far as past, current, and future events were concerned-- was _David-Oosha_.  But it didn’t matter.  It could not reach him now.  The gravity assist had sent the _sle’ek_ too far away.  It would take it all night to get back to where the house once stood…

…

…

 

The _sle’ek,_ as a species, knew a great deal about patience and disappointment.  Incorporeal and theoretically _immortal,_ there was little for them to do _besides_ wait patiently as they drifted along currents of gravitational energy.  David Carter was gone, taken by Rafe, commander of the Tyrusian resistance--which called itself the _Ooshati_ \--who had been masquerading with _surprising_ success as a human sheriff and acting as undercover guard of his prince-to-be.  Now Metiec was alone, at the edge of the crater where Rita Carter’s house had once stood, and could do naught but ruminate its failure to secure her as a host.

Metiec was certain she would have Consented.  She would have wanted its ages of gathered knowledge and power to protect her son and reunite with Cale-Oosha.  In return, firstly, she would have liberated it from a futile existence.  Matter passed through it—most energy frequencies passed through it—and so it could change nothing, touch nothing, _do_ nothing.  Potential energy with zero outlet.  Such an existence threatened endless, disappointed _frustration._   This was what the _sle’ek_ called _death._   Happily, this was not the only option.  The _sle’ek_ had been specifically developed to reside in the consciousness of sentient beings with mass— _tactiles_ they called them, and in this way, they could ‘live’.  With a _tactile_ host, _sle’ek_ could experience the fullness of the material world as well as the fullness of sentients’ emotions, passively, and should they wish for a more active interaction, could assert its will over the host’s mind.  Much of this interaction was undetectable by the host, making the _sle’ek_ the threatening galactic psychological terror it had been created to be.

But they had no interest in conquest, dominion, _or_ terror.  At least, not in the past…

Which brought Metiec to the second reason why it had wanted Rita Carter as a host: it had a _mission_.

 A frequency echoed along it.  An internal combustion engine.  Fossil-fueled.  The _tactiles_ of this continent on this planet referred to this machine-vehicle as a ‘motorcycle’.  Reaching, Metiec heard the frantic shock of Jim Bailey.

*

Jim had seen the blinding flash of light down the street.  In a small town like Glenport, such things just _didn’t happen._   After the strange incident in the museum with David and the blonde woman—who looked a little _strange_ in her face, now that he thought back on it.  Strange like the sheriff.  And maybe even _David_ … -- he was much quicker to decide to investigate.  Too many _strange_ things going on so close together in this sleepy New England town for him to just chock up as coincidence.  Besides, it looked like whatever it was, was around _David’s_ house.

Except David’s house wasn’t there anymore when he got there.  Instead there was a crater in the dark of night and the sound of broken water pipes still flowing, dumping its load in the ground where the foundation of the Carter house used to be.

Something like wild panic strangled his voice out of him as it clenched in his belly and scrambled up his spine.  There was none of his gymnast grace as he dismounted his bike and tore off his helmet, stumbling toward the crater as if he expected the white picket fence to be there, to stop him from tumbling head-over-bucket into the hole.  He did stop, but it wasn’t the fence—there was no fence.

“David?!” The bay would have carried his voice for blocks if he’d had any.  Suddenly, Jim couldn’t breathe.  _What is going on?!  Just what the hell is going on?!_

He needed to find him.  He needed to find David!  His best friend was in trouble and—

/ _I can help you find David Carter, Jim Bailey._ /

“Huh?” He turned to look for the speaker, even though a part of him knew that he’d ‘heard’ without his ears.  He’d ‘heard’ like he ‘heard’ _The Twilight Zone_ theme playing in the back of his mind just now while the hair stood on end on the nape of his neck.

/ _I can help you, Jim Bailey.  I am Metiec and I can help you find David Carter./_

“That’s… That’s great, but…”

/ _You are concerned because I am communicating with you without sound.  I do not have a physical body with which to produce sound.  I will need you to share yours with me to assist you in finding David Carter._ /

Jim took a step back and considered that he was in shock, going unhinged… “Are you in my head?  Can you hear what I’m _thinking_?”

/ _Yes._ / The disembodied _not-voice_ of Metiec replied simply.  To Jim it sounded almost _masculine_.  He envisioned a glasses’d clerk with a wiry gray beard and a slowly balding head.  And this clerk was about to end his mind-numbing, soul-crushing shift at the DMV and don his cape and mask for his more exciting alter-ego, and he could _just barely_ contain his anticipation for that moment.

Jim didn’t think he had _that_ much of an imagination… so more than half of that _image_ had to have come from ‘Metiec’ it-him?-self… right?

“This is crazy…”

/ _The circumstances are completely logical and coherent, I assure you, Jim Bailey.  You simply do not understand them from your limited perspective./_

Unfortunately, Jim’s chuckle sounded a little hysterical even to _himself_ , “Then maybe _I’m_ crazy…”

/ _According to my initial observations, you have full grasp of your mental faculties.  If you wish I can conduct more thorough analysis…/_

“No.  That’s fine… What _are_ you… and what do you want from me?”

Metiec drifted slowly nearer the human youth, completely undetected. / _I am an artificially created entity constructed entirely of energy taking coherent shape simply by function of will hailing from a galaxy far beyond your species’ capacity to detect./_

“…” Jim stooped to pick up his helmet which he had dropped, then turned back toward his motorcycle.

/ _Was this answer not acceptable, Jim Bailey?/_  The clerk-voice intoned in his head with only the barest hint of perplexity.

“No, it was perfectly acceptable.  I just remembered I left the fryers on at work, my light on in the bathroom, my mom’s going to be wondering about me, I probably got into an accident, and this _craziness_ is probably just a _dream_ as I lay bleeding on the road somewhere, I need to _go home now, bye…!”_

 

 

Metiec could not sigh as the youth sped away.  It could only wait patiently…

...

…

It did not take long for the events to stir the small settlement of _tactiles_ into a fervor.  All emergency services were deployed in response to the panicked phone calls concerning the _crater_ where Rita Carter’s house once stood.  With such _busy multitudes_ , Metiec did not have ample opportunity to investigate any of them for the potential to assist it on its mission, though each of them tempted the _sle’ek_ with their living, vibrant, _tactile_ existences full of potential-made-impact.  But _sle’ek_ could only choose one host and was bound to that single host for the remainder of the host’s lifetime.  Only after the host’s death could the _sle’ek_ choose another host.  Metiec needed a host that would assist it on its mission.

There were two people of note; people with advanced information concerning past and current events.  Metiec judged either one of them suitable for its purposes concerning its mission.  The _sle’ek_ would have to isolate one or the other and ask for Consent…

… But then Jim Bailey returned.  He spoke with one of the two.

“Uh… ‘scuse me… Did you guys find anything yet?” Worry and exhaustion strained his words.

The female _tactile_ responded, “Not yet.  You know these people?”

“David… was my friend.  You all think he’s dead?”

“Some do.  My gut says no?”

Now hope flooded in.  Few things could resonate _just so_ like hope, “Really?  So… where is he?”

“Dunno.  Maybe you can help me find him…?”

/ _They cannot give you answers they do not have, Jim Bailey./_  Metiec was quick to interject before _both_ potential hosts escaped its reach.  Of the two, Jim Bailey was the _known_ and _measurable_ asset.  The female was an unknown asset…  Time was of the essence.  It was wiser to err on the side of caution at this juncture.

“O-oh yeah? H-haha, I don’t… really know anything…” The young man backed away, holding up both hands defensively.

“I just have some questions...” The female pressed.

“I don’t have any answers!”

/ _I can help you find David Carter./_

Jim’s hands went to his head, “Just _stop_ , already!”

The female had stepped to pursue, had been about to say something further, but now she drew back, “All _right_ , sheesh…”  She moved away.  Jim did not notice, but Metiec was distinctly aware that she was about to notify another _tactile_ about the young man’s strange behavior.

/ _Time is running out./_   Metiec observed.

“You… you’re real… _This_ is real… I thought…”

/ _You thought this was a delusion of your senses and your mind.  It is not.  You wish to find David Carter.  He is in grave danger as is this world.  No one here can assist you in finding David Carter as quickly as I can.  Time grows short./_

The _sle’ek_ sensed the _tactile’s_ war with himself: his desire to assist his friend with his stumbling disbelief.

“You can _really_ help me?”

/ _I assure you no other being in this vicinity is capable of being of greater assistance than I.  This is not a vain boast.  I am Metiec.  I have lived a hundred lives in the shadows of countless stars./_

“Yeah, yeah, great… What do _you_ get out of this?”

/ _To experience life in a tactile body once more--_ /

“--Are you a ghost?”

/ _I am a--/_

“Or a _demon_ or something?”

/ _I am an artificially created entity constructed entirely of energy taking coherent shape simply by function of will, hailing from a galaxy far beyond your species’ capacity to detect./_

“You said that last night…”

_/It is still true, Jim Bailey.  Time grows short…/_

“Okay.  So what...?  You just get to… live in my body?”

/ _Yes.  I will exhibit control over your tactile frame as necessary to accomplish our goals.  Otherwise I will observe without interference while granting you acceptable accesses to my power, knowledge, and skills./_

“What does _that_ mean?”

/ _They are coming to apprehend you, Jim Bailey.  Time grows short./_

Jim looked up to discover this was true.  Metiec heard that he was glad that nobody else seemed to notice him standing there ‘talking to himself’.  A thrill of panic laced his thoughts.

“W-why?”

/ _They believe you are deceiving them._ /

“I’m _not_!”

/ _I can assist you in escaping them.  I can help you find David Carter._ /

“Yes.  Okay.  _Yes_.”

/ _You Consent?_ /

“Yes!”

It was all Metiec needed to hear.

 


	2. Host

All at once, everything was too bright, too loud, too _harsh_ , too gloriously, wonderfully _vivid_ and _real_ and _there_ .  Metiec’s world of nothingness suddenly exploded into chaotic _everything._

It was _magnificent_.

His heart beat unsteady; too _loud_ , too _heavy_.  His rushing blood too _hot_ , too _fast_.  The colors and shapes too _sharp_ , too _real._

He was _alive_ again!

Jim was steadily panicking, causing the heart-rate and pulse to race, the sweat to soak through skin and clothing.  He wanted to _run_.

Metiec _wanted_ him to run.  Just because he wanted to _feel it_ again.  The rush of a hormone-drenched nervous system , muscle fibers extending and contracting, having _traction_ under his appendages to create _independent locomotion_ !  Ah.  He was a _he_ again.  He’d had female hosts in the past as well, and non-sexed.  It just always seemed simpler to take the personal pronoun of the host while he had one.  It seemed more… unifying.

_Help me… I thought you were going to help me… YOU SAID YOU WOULD HELP ME…!_

Ah.  Right.

Dragging in a long, slow breath through borrowed lungs—ah, _breathing!_  What a revelation the air was!—the _sle’ek_ drew memories from his new host’s mind—muscle memory, body language, cultural cues, routine speaking patterns…-- and directed the young man’s hands into his jacket pockets.  The names and purposes of each object becoming available to his consciousness as required.

The Link was still fresh, and so there was still a very clear division between where Jim’s mind ended and Metiec’s _began_ .  In time that would blur, though they would always be _two_ beings in a symbiotic relationship, such blurring of identity was necessary to facilitate their maximum potential

_They’re coming… oh hell she’s coming back with the cops… they’re going to arrest me, this is insane why is all of this happening?!  I don’t want to go to jail oh shit oh shit…_

/ _Peace, Jim._ /  It took much more effort to speak with Jim’s mind now that they were a Linked entity.  The Link had been originally created for _control_ , not communion and cooperation.

The woman—‘Sergeant Romar’ she had introduced herself to Jim as—was returning with two State Troopers.

“What’s wrong, son?  The feds say you’re acting suspicious.  Do you know anything about this mess?” The more rotund one lead off.

Sergeant Romar’s expression relayed clearly that she was as impressed with his tact as Jim and Metiec were—though the _sle’ek_ was admittedly far more thrilled and amused to be _spoken to_ with _auditory signals_ that he could _hear and understand!_

“I know this is David Carter, my friend’s, house.  I know he lived with his mom, Rita Carter, and that his dad has been missing for over ten years.  And I know that it’s _gone now_ and so are the _all_ the Carters.”

*

Jim said these things, and these _were_ things he _knew_ , but somehow, he _also_ knew that _he_ wasn’t the one actually saying these things.  It was Metiec, using his mouth and throat, using his _mind_ to communicate these things to the Troopers.  And this was _definitely_ Metiec’s otherworldly calm settling over his body, releasing tension in clenched muscles, steadying his breathing and heartrate.  He wasn’t sure how to feel about it just now.  It was too _strange_ and _vague_.

“You’re David Carter’s friend?  Any idea where he might be?”

“I don’t think he’s dead.”

Romar spoke up, “You didn’t seem so sure before.”

Jim’s eyes turned to her, and he felt the muscles in his face shift, but it was _Metiec_ looking at her and raising one of his blonde eyebrows, “You did.  I want to believe it.  He’s my _friend_.”

“So if he wasn’t _here_ where might he be?”

“If I _really_ knew, don’t you think I’d be there looking _myself_?”

The fat Trooper grumbled into his mustache, “All right, son, don’t get smart…”  Jim kind of hated how he kept calling him ‘son’…

“You don’t have _any_ ideas?” Romar pressed. “There aren’t _that_ many places for a teenager to go in the middle of the night in this burg…”

“Who are _you_ telling?” Jim’s voice joked.  He was glad Metiec was as quick—possibly quicker—on the uptake as he was, at least. “But Mrs. Carter was pretty strict.  Jim wasn’t allowed out at night most times.  So he was probably _here_ …”

The woman turned to the Troopers, “ _Nothing_ at any ERs or precincts?”

“Lady, if Rita or David Carter showed up somewhere talking about how their house blew up in the middle of the night, we wouldn’t be _here asking.”_

“They _do_ have another house…” Jim told them suddenly.  There was only the slightest difference that he could sense when _he_ was actually ‘driving’ his own body again.  However slight the hand-off seemed, it gave him a sense of profound relief, “Everybody knows the Carters own Maple Island and the cabin there…”

_/I am not certain that was wise…/_ Metiec was changing.  He still _seemed_ like a clerk-y sort of soulless, dead-eyed, older guy, but now the gray was fading to a wispy copper and the face and eyes had a little more animation to them.  His shift at the DMV was over at last…

_It’s not like they think David blew his own house up..._ He told himself.

/ _They will interfere in our goals._ /

Jim wanted to find David, that was true, but if the cops found David and Rita and brought them back safe, then that was perfectly okay too.

“We’ll put a post out to look for boats and check the island.” The Troopers decided.

“Let’s get some divers in the bay too.  Maybe we’ll find out more about what happened here…” Romar added and started on her radio.

Jim felt something _pressing_ against the center of his forehead from the _inside._  It wasn’t painful, just strange.  The _authority_ _figures_ seemed fixated on their radios and tasks, so he started backing away, then turned and went back to his bike and helmet.

Nobody seemed to notice.  Not even after he started up the decidedly _not quiet_ bike and driving off.

“Was that you?”

Metiec sounded more than just a _little_ smug, / _It is not a difficult task to distract a tactile that wishes to be distracted._ /

“What the heck is a ‘tactile’?”

/ _You.  Those like you.  Sentient creatures with physical bodies._ /

“How did you do that?  ‘Distract’ them…?”

/ _Application of will._ /

“Well that was… cool or whatever, but that body-snatching thing was… Look don’t do it again.” Jim could not suppress the shiver.

/ _Was my interference not necessary? You were in a rapidly declining state of mental agitation…_ /

“ _Whatever_.  Just don’t do it again, okay?!”

/ _I will be more conservative with my interference in the future._ /

…

…

Jim went to work.  He went back to school.  David never showed up.  Metiec didn’t ‘interfere’ again.

“Hey, I _thought_ you said you were going to help me find David…”

But he didn’t get a response from the mirror in the boy’s room or the clerk-like voice in his head.  Jim wondered _again_ if he’d imagined the whole thing… PTSD or shock or whatever.  He told himself to forget about the weird encounters.  He thought about going to the police about the incident at the museum with David and the blonde woman after the report came out in the news concerning the broken exhibits, but he never found the time between work, school and gymnastics.  Almost a week had passed since the Carter house vanished and the Carters and the Glenport sheriff with it.  The sheriff’s car had been dredged up out of the bay, but there were no bodies.  A boat had been discovered missing from the docks and across the water at Maple Island, but nobody had been found on the island anywhere.

Then the cabin on the island _also_ vanished, but without the giant hole in the ground this time.  And a bunch of space rocks started crashing into random places around the country.  And all the sudden David Carter was _wanted_ by the federal government for acts of terrorism.

“Maybe the whole _world_ is going crazy, not just me…” The teenager muttered to himself as he went to answer the phone in the garage where he was working on his motorcycle.

“Hello?”

“Jim.  It’s me.”

_David!_ “Man, where _are_ you?  Half of everyone thinks you’re _dead_ and the other half thinks you’re a _terrorist_!”

“Yeah?  Which half are you on?”

“Where _are_ you?”

“Pitchfork, Utah.”

“Is that even a _place?_ What the hell are you doing _there_?”

“It’s… complicated—“

“—‘Complicated’ isn’t the half of it.  Do you need help?  I’ll fly out and meet you if you go to Salt Lake—“

“—Jim,” David’s voice twisted with sudden alarm, “I have to go.”

“ _Go_ to Salt Lake City—“

“—I can’t.  I’ll get home somehow.  Later.”

“David!” But the line clicked closed.

*

“Too late for a double burger?~”

Metiec had _heard_ the arrival of David Carter long before he announced his presence.  In the days since the Link formed he had been quietly observing and _relishing_ every innocuous detail and routine of Jim’s life, memory, and thoughts.  Everything was so _wonderful_ to _experience_ , and he often found himself amused at Jim’s exasperation with what he considered a ‘slow’ and ‘boring’ life.  But _tactiles_ often lacked true appreciation for their situations in the universe.

However, the half-blood’s tone of voice caused a _unique_ reaction through Jim’s system, and Metiec saw previously hidden memories of intimate touches in the dark, shuddering breathing, whispered voices…

Ah.

After the immediate arousal response, Jim reacted to the presence of his friend (lover?) with joy, leaping the counter and clasping hands— _clasped hands, smooth skin, soft chuckling_ —and the teenagers embraced.  Metiec wondered.  With the memories buried as they were, did that mean the more intimate part of their relationship had subsided?  But that did not explain the immediate arousal response.  Then again, Jim was still in puberty—the absolute _youngest_ a _tactile_ could be and still give Consent—and such chemical and physical changes within the body often led to common and inexplicable arousal responses to a variety of innocuous stimuli.  He would have to investigate.  Later.  For now, his curiosity must wait.

David-Oosha was here, and Metiec still had a mission.

 

Jim got him something to eat and they sat across from each other in a booth.  Then David-Oosha began to _talk_ .  He told Jim about the attack on the Carter house, the revelations provided by commander Rafe, being confronted by the Department of Defense agents, joining the Ooshati, the attack on Charles Air Force Base, Rafe and the Ooshati’s sacrifices, meeting the isolated Tyrusian ‘Doc’ and his tamed mangler, Blue, and the discovery of the Dragit’s plan to launch asteroids from a base on the dark side of Earth's natural satellite moon.  However, the most _interesting_ and _infuriating_ thing was when he mentioned the _Exotar_ .  It was at _that_ moment that Metiec grieved that he had not taken David-Oosha as a host.  It would not have been a benefit to _his_ mission, but the overall goal that gave his mission any _worth_.  He berated himself his hesitation, and the circumstances-- for he’d spent enough time within the mind of the human teenager to once again recognize and express anger.

Jim wanted to mention him.  He wanted to tell David-Oosha about the ‘strange encounters’ at the place where his house stood.  Metiec managed to steer his attention away, like before the the museum encounter with the twins, and then they were interrupted by a transmitted message from David-Oosha’s luggage.

“Maple Island… Calling Maple Island… Are ye out there?”

“Uh… David.  Your backpack’s talking to you…”

It was the Tyrusian and his mangler.  After some human teenager observers were sent on their way, ‘Doc’ relayed his information concerning the moon base halting operations due to damage from the Ooshati attack.  This news was only of the smallest interest to Metiec, so he went back to nursing his frustration.

It was a mistake.  Turning inwards prevented him from sensing the half-breed twins before they descended upon David-Oosha and his host.

“ _David Carter…_ ”

 

Jim recognized them from the museum-- memories Metiec had examined and reexamined during the last several days-- and David-Oosha proceeded to give his friend instructions.

“...Take this and get out of here--” He thrust the bag with the orb into Jim’s hands

“--What’s going--”

“--No time, just _go_.”

It was the first incident Metiec resented the _pride_ that resided in David-Oosha.  Confused, rattled, Jim went.

He didn’t know where to _go_.  So he went to the parking garage where his bike waited and took off his apron and put on his motorcycle jacket.

And _waited_.

Gunfire from inside the mall.  Jim didn’t recognize the noise at this distance and under the sound of traffic below the parking garage.  Metiec did.  He did not alert his host.

 

The twins returned _without_ David-Oosha.  Metiec alerted his host, sensing that he was in danger.  Jim’s eyes focused on the shapes moving in the dark between the cars.  The female got in the driver’s side of their sedan.  The male came to stop in front of Jim’s motorcycle.  Metiec recognized that he would have much preferred to grab him from behind.  He recognized that the half-breed was going to use Jim Bailey as bait from David-Oosha.

Metiec was certain it would be successful bait.

“What do you want?  Where’s David?”

“Shut-up.” The male half-breed grinned, “You don’t know anything about _anything_.”

A gesture, a telekinetic tug, and suddenly Metiec’s host’s feet came out from under him and he was face down on the cold cement.

The half-breed was not slow to haul him up and _off of his feet_ once more, in a light but secure headlock.

There was a massive explosion inside the mall.  Jim struggled frantically.  The half-breed merely chuckled and squeezed.

 

David-Oosha appeared not long after, walking slowly but appearing not very injured.  Despite the direct danger his own host was in, Metiec’s surprise at this observation could not be ignored and he reached…

No.  David-Oosha was not currently Linked.  No other Tyrusian, full _or_ half-blooded, could boast such _luck._  It was uncanny.  To reference the uniqueness of his position, the _sle’ek_ compared with Jim’s memories…

Yes.  It was like David-Oosha was a protagonist in an action movie.  That he succeeded and survived simply because the writer’s plot _required_ it.  Uncanny!

 

The half-breed male was threatening David-Oosha; giving him instructions to move away from his vehicle and remove his glove under threat of killing his best friend right in front of him.

Pain!  As vertebrae popped in Jim’s neck under the pressure of the half-breed’s grip, Metiec began sending energy to Jim’s endocrine system.  The youth had requested that Metiec not interfere directly, but this situation was rapidly becoming an emergency.  Metiec had grown somewhat _attached_ to the idea of having a host and did not disapprove of his current one.  He would not permit the half-blood to _kill him_ for _any_ reason.

But David-Oosha surrendered.

 

Ah.  It didn’t matter.  The half-blood thrived on cruelty.

“ _Sucker_.~” He chuckled.

/ _ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL./_

Molten iron surged through Jim’s veins.  Time slowed.  He could have run a marathon between heartbeats.

_Organic.  Primarily human skeleton structure.  Cardiovascular and central nervous systems predominantly Tyrusian.  Damaged tissue surrounding larynx and face.  Extraneus calcium deposits on third rib, right side-- suspecting previous bone damage.  Energy scans detect high probability for Tyrusian genetic attributes of telepathy and telekinesis…_

His analysis complete, all that was necessary now was to _execute._  The half-breed had released the hand bracing the _back_ of his neck so Jim grabbed the fist just beyond his jaw and instead of trying to pull his arm _away_ from his throat, _twisted_ his wrist outward, forcing the tendons in the forearm to bend the elbow to release the sudden increased tension.

Then Jim sent his left elbow back into the half-breed’s ribcage on the right side while his feet still dangled above the ground.

Finally, as his feet found the ground and the twin sister stepped out of the shadows, brandishing her pistol, and the brother was slowly doubling over his re-broken rib, Jim landed and open-palm strike to the middle of his brow, forcing energy into his frontal lobe and effectively paralyzing any psychic potential at least for the immediate future.

 

But it cost his host _much_ .  Jim’s frame crumpled bonelessly to the pavement in _anguish_ in the wake of power it had not been prepared to wield.

In that time, the twins were able to secure David-Oosha and leave with him.  The DOD agents arrived as they sped away.

“Wh-wh-wh…!!”

/ _Rest now, Jim.  You did more than you could._ /

 


	3. Mother Knows Best

Monica Bailey was understandably quite _vexed_ when she received the phone call that her teenage son had been accosted after his shift at his part time job after the mall had _exploded_.  Fortunately, she was a gentle-tempered woman and the news that his injuries were few and very minor: bruising, a strained tendon in his neck, and a slight burn in the center of his right palm.  Unfortunately, he was still suffering from a stress-induced fever which sapped all the strength from his body.

To make matters worse, more asteroids started falling from the sky, destroying military installations associated with the long range defense radar system protecting the country.  Many people were deciding that it was a good time to panic.  Especially since the military seemed to be at a loss on what to do.

Monica Bailey was concerned, but not terribly surprised.

She was there the first time Jim woke up.  She looked into the face of her son, but it was _someone else_.  She could see clearly in the eyes, in the faint lines of an unfamiliar expression, that someone _else_ was there.

She cried angry tears in the hallway after he’d gone back to sleep.  Why was this happening to her family?

Jim was discharged and she took him home and put him to bed.  Her son’s bike—what had been her _husband’s bike_ —had been backed over and badly damaged.  The _other_ bike—apparently _David Carter’s_ strange bike—had been delivered to her garage.

Sergeant Romar had visited.  She’d been very warm and supportive.  But she was busy.  Monica implored her to find and protect David.

 

Later that same day, Jim was able to get up and walk around, and he was _himself_.  Monica was happy to see all the familiar little tics that she’d cared for and nurtured for seventeen years.

“Jim…” She offered, “Did you want to eat something?”

*

 

/ _She knows, Jim_./

Jim swallowed hard.  Even _he_ didn’t _really know_ what was going on.  How was he supposed to explain to his mother?  Nervously, he turned and faced her.  He wondered why she looked like she was _grieving_.

“Mom…?”

“Oh Jim…” Tears overflowed and she brought a hand up, “How _could you?!”_

In all his seventeen years of life, Jim Bailey had _never_ seen his mother cry.  Not even when his father left when he was small.  His mother sometimes would _fret_ , but she’d always seemed so _reliable_ and _practical._   Seeing her now was somewhat _terrifying_. “M-mom?!  Wh-what’s wrong?”

“You… You’ve let one of those… those _things_ in you… Oh _Jim_ …”

/ _This is most unusual…_ /

“My mom is _crying_ of _course_ it’s _unusual_ … What do I do?!” The teenager hissed under his breath.

/ _We must learn how she knows._ /

“But she’s _crying_!”

/ _I will do it then._ /

Oddly enough, Jim was _happy_ to let Metiec bail him out of this situation.

“Mrs. Bailey,” It was his voice, but not his words.  He’d _never_ called his mother anything except ‘mom’.  Jim got the impression that Metiec was doing this _on purpose_ to make a clear distinction, like the more upright posture and carefully folded hands in front of him.  Jim _never_ stood like that.  It felt… _weird_ , “your distress is not marked with surprise.  Do you have prior experience with a Linked Entity?”

Anger dried many of his mother’s tears, “You…!  You _creature_ how _dare_ you take my son and address me like this!  He’s just a _boy!_   I thought there were _rules!_ ”

Jim could _feel_ Metiec’s surprised hesitation.  His words were less confident, “… Rules.  No.  Jim Bailey has reached biological puberty for his species.  He is old enough to Consent.  How do you have knowledge of such things?”

“I don’t care if he’s old enough to ‘Consent’ he’s not even old enough to _vote!_   He’s my little boy and you _can’t_ take him like you took his father!”

_Dad?!_

“Ah.” Metiec rocked back on Jim’s heels, “Telsus.  I can sense the lingering of his imprint in this house…”

Mom was crying again, “Yes.  James told me about Telsus… About what it was… what it was asking him to do.  That he was leaving to do it…”

“Will you tell me?” Metiec wondered curiously.

Mom flinched, then raged, “How can I?  Will you let my son go?!”

“It is impossible.  We are Linked.  When I have accomplished my mission, should Jim Bailey still be alive, I will return him here and not interfere further except to preserve his natural lifespan within the scope of my power.”

“How _could_ you?”

“He gave me Consent.”

“ _Jim_ , why would you _do_ such a brash thing?”

“I am certain—“

“—I wasn’t talking to _you_.  I want to talk to my _son_!”

Just like that, Jim felt Metiec melt away like a popsicle off a stick on a summer afternoon.  Seemed even ‘ _artificially created entity constructed entirely of energy’_ couldn’t withstand the wrath of a mom.

“Mom?”

_S_ he came to him, taking hold of his shoulders, “Tell me _why_ _…_ Please…?”

He gave the only answer he could—the honest one, “Metiec said… that he could help.”

“Help with _what_ _?_ Jim… Jim what are you trying to _do_ _?”_

“David is in trouble, mom… The whole _world_ is in trouble…  Why didn’t you tell me about dad?”

“Oh Jim… How do you tell something like that?” She sighed, “That your father left us because the invisible alien in his head asked him to… Would you have believed me?  If I didn’t know your father like I do, I wouldn’t have believed him _either_.  Some days I still don’t _want to._   But I saw—just like I saw with you in the hospital—that some mornings he woke up… and he wasn’t _my James_ anymore…”

_/Telsus must have been grievously pressed in his mission if he separated his host from his family.  Telsus was fond of family units…/_

Jim grimaced, “We’ll talk _later._ I’m talking to my mom right now…”

“Can it not hear your thoughts?  Your father said that his just listened to his head.  I never… heard them talk to each other…”

“Oh.” Jim had to take a moment to get over his embarrassment before addressing more important matters, “Mom.  Did dad know about the Tyrusians… the moon base… the asteroids?  Do you—“

“—The Carters?  Of course, I do, Jim.” Now mom smiled a little helplessly. “Did you really think I would have let that thing take my husband away _without_ a full explanation?”

“Not really.” Jim couldn’t help the grin as he gathered her into his arms. “You always find out everything.”

“How else am I going to take care of you if I don’t know everything I ought to know?”

*

 

Jim was glad to have more open communications with his mother while he finished recovering.  They spent long hours talking about his father, the events surrounding the Carters, and the current and future dangers to the planet Earth.  Metiec was happy to listen idly while ruminating on Telsus’s presence and wondering on his mission.  The _sle’ek_ operation was a wide net of simultaneously shifting and altering pieces.  There was only one penultimate goal, and whereas the immortal _sle’ek_ had the benefit of _being able to wait_ , the sooner victory was secured, the sooner they could go back to simply enjoying their hosts’ lives quietly.  It was Telsus’s mission that had torn apart the Bailey family once already, and Metiec’s that would separate mother from son _now_.  He could offer his sympathies for this situation, but the fact remained that his mission took priority, and it was simply _too late_ for regrets.  The Link was a permanent fixture in Jim Bailey’s mortal coil now.  No known force in the universe could separate them.

At night, before his host fell asleep, the teenager sought his consul.  Or perhaps more accurately: _plagued him with questions_ :

“So I don’t have to talk to you?”

/ _It is as your mother said: I can hear your thoughts before you even speak them with your mouth.  I do not mind you speaking aloud, however.  But it may draw attention to you, as you have noticed previously./_

“Y…” _Yeah.  Did you know my father?_

/ _I did not know the man, James Bailey.  I do know the_ sle’ek _that took James Bailey as a host, Telsus./_

_Is that what you’re called?  ‘Slee-ecks?’  Is Telsus your friend?_

_/Yes.  We are all_ sle’ek _.  Telsus and I are not friends in the way you and David-Oosha are friends.  We are united in our goal as a people and do not have natural instincts to compete for resources to divide us.  I have heard Telsus’s songs when we drifted through the emptiness of the void between stars in death.  It was a beautiful song of warmth, companionship, nurturing affection, and steadfast loyalty./_

_Wait… hold on… You are ‘united in your goal as a people’?  What’s that?_

/Sle’ek _do not have bodies.  Our goal as a people is for each_ sle’ek _to be symbiotically Linked with a Consenting_ tactile. _Otherwise they suffer futility.  It is a state we abhor and fear, much as_ tactiles _fear death./_

_So you’re just gonna take over?_

/ _No.  A host must always Consent, and only biologically adult_ tactiles _can Consent./_

_So if someone says ‘no, go to hell’ you… just leave?_

_/If a_ tactile _cannot be persuaded to Consent, then another host must be selected./_

_And no kids?  Wouldn’t kids be easier to get to Consent?_

_/Certainly.  However in the only incident in which a child was made a host, the host suffered premature death and the_ sle’ek _and his songs were lost forever.  It is an immeasurable tragedy./_

_So… it **kills** you?  I thought you could choose another host after the current one dies?_

_/We do not know why it is different for children./_ Metiec was forced to admit.

_…Why didn’t you tell me about David?_

_/I saw no benefit in your knowing for either your goal or mine./_

_That’s crap.  You should have told me!  And when that **creep** had me… you **did** something there at the end!  Why didn’t you do something sooner?!_

_/You asked me not to interfere again.  I felt it beneficial to cede to your wishes while you are my host.  I do not desire to interfere with your life outside of what needs doing to accomplish your goal or mine, or what is required to save your life and continue our Link./_

_You never DID help me FIND him._

Metiec enjoyed the sensation of bemusement, _/I knew he would return to **you** , Jim Bailey./_

_Don’t sound so smug.  You should have done something.  Now he’s **gone** … Now he’s in worse trouble than before…_

_/Do you desire to assist him?/_

_Of course!_

_/And what if… he should not want your assistance?/_

_Why **wouldn’t** he?_

_/…/_

_It doesn’t matter.  He’ll definitely want my help!  I’m his best friend!_

_/Very well.  When you have fully recovered, we will go and assist David-Oosha./_ Metiec informed him, / _You must recognize, however, that the power I am capable of granting you may cause further damage to your body.  I am an incorporeal entity constructed of energy through will that has gathered aeons of knowledge and power.  There is only so much you can bring to bear without threatening your destruction./_

_Yeah, yeah, I got it.  You’re all-powerful and I’m just a meatbag…_

_/You misunderstand.  You are a unique and incredibly valuable life-form with a perspective in this universe that will never be repeated.  Yours is a life to be celebrated.  I will gladly sing of you to the stars when you inevitably and tragically pass from the physical plane.  But I do not wish to shorten your time or hasten that fate.  The situation with the half-breed was an emergency.  We should plan to expose you to smaller quantities of power so to build up your tolerances./_

_Like a super-hero training montage?_ Jim cracked a grin.

Metiec took the moment or so to dig up the proper references from Jim's memories... / _… Something very like, yes./_

_Great.  When do we start?_


	4. Recovery

The next morning Jim woke up before the sun and insisted that he was well enough to at least _start_ this ‘ _superhero training’_.

  _I didn’t even break anything or anything.  Let’s_ **_do this!_ **

 Metiec could appreciate his enthusiasm, however: / _Your central nervous and cardiovascular systems are still recovering from the trauma my intervention caused them.  We will take it slowly./_

The _sle’ek_ directed his host to drink a full glass of water and dress in comfortable clothing he did not mind damaging.  And footwear suitable for rigorous physical exertion.  It amused him that Jim lingered over the decision on whether to wear denim jeans or not.  Eventually, the teen settled on a pair of warm up pants to pair with his tank top and sneakers.

 “So what are we doing?” Was the quiet question when they reached the dark street.  The sighing of the bay was audible over the few cars that were starting down the street to leave their houses and take their occupants to their place of business for the day.  Usually Jim would be riding to school for early morning gymnastics practice, but both his mother and doctor agreed that he shouldn’t be putting himself under any unnecessary stress.

Jim, unfortunately, was a young man and prone to not taking advice from others.

*

 

/ _You are running to  Slip Shore Pier._ / Metiec informed him.  His ‘appearance’ had changed further.  He was certainly much younger looking-- early thirties maybe, and far less tired and dead-eyed.  He kept adjusting his glasses like they were in the _way_ as opposed to a useful tool, and his gray hair had completely filled in with red.  His wispy beard was replaced by a respectable-looking, well-groomed goatee.

 “Running?  That’s over four miles from here!” Jim liked sprinting well enough, but distance running was a _drag_ .  And that was exactly what he’d end up having to do-- _drag_ himself that full distance.

 / _When you arrive, you will swim to Harold’s Rock and back._ /

 “Wait a minute, I thought you were going to get me used to your _powers_ like… slowing down time or… whatever you did back then…”  This was starting to sound like _zero_ fun.

 / _T_ _hat was an enhanced adrenal response in your brain, Jim.  Time did not slow, your perception of it did.  You were moving_ very fast _.  Today’s goals are twofold: to acclimate your body to the increased rigors of my interference in its performance, and to give me an opportunity to learn how best to apply my interference to encourage more rapid recovery.  This must be done before granting you access to anything else./_

 “What does that even _mean_?”

Jim _almost_ thought the _sle’ek_ was smirking, / _You must learn to walk before you can run… and run before you_ **_fly_ ** _, Jim./_

 “But I _will_ fly?”

 / _Perhaps.  First you will_ **_run_ ** _to Slip Shore Pier, and then_ **_swim_ ** _to Harold’s Rock and back./_

 Ruffling his blonde hair, Jim stretched his shoulders, “Do I _have_ to?”

 / _Certainly not.  After all: starting this training was on_ **_your_ ** _insistence.  You could always go back to bed as your mother and physician recommend./_

 “Yeah yeah, shut up.  Fine.  I’ll ‘Captain America’ this crap before you let me ‘Superman’ anything…”

 / _That is an acceptable analogy.  Also, you may wish to remember that you do not have to speak aloud.  You will need your breath for running./_

 Jim couldn’t be sure, but he thought that that was the _sle’ek_ trying to tell him to _stop whining_ .  He liked it that Metiec was getting more of a _personality_.  He started the run toward Slip Shore.    Unfortunately it didn’t take long for him to tire and even less time for him to lose interest.

 / _Your cardiovascular system is very inefficient during this activity…/_

  _Yeah,_ **_so sorry._ ** _I’m a_ **_gymnast_ ** _not in_ **_track and field._ **

 / _… I see… Converting long-term energy stores.  Adjusting adrenal levels and metabolic rate.  You will want to eat plenty of calcium and protein after this training as well as complex carbohydrates and more water._ /

 In a few strides, Jim felt _great_ . _Hey this is convenient as hell!_

 / _Your body is still under duress.  This is an enhanced endorphin response.  You still have three miles to go.  Your lack of endurance is… surprising./_

 Jim scowled, _Shut-up.  It’s easy to talk big about endurance when you don’t have a_ **_body_ ** _that hurts or gets tired._

  _/Jim, I_ **_do_ ** _now.  The discomfort does not change the inefficiency I observe.  I have much work to do./_

  _Yeah, yeah…_

 The run went much better than Jim thought it might, and a large part of that was Metiec keeping him from lingering on how much it _sucked_ and how didn’t want to do it.

 / _Jim?  While your body is in cardiovascular recovery… I wish to perform a test.  Please take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can./_

  _Why?_

 / _I am going to measure the oxygen demand ratio of your internal organs and muscle tissue./_

  _Oh… Okay?_  He took a deep breath and held it until the stars got a little too bright and the world a little too dark, then he sputtered and gasped.  The sun had just started to rise over the water but it was shielded by clouds now.  It was going to be a gray morning.  _That work for you?  Because_ _you want me to swim, but I didn’t bring any trunks…_

 / _If you do not wish to damage or soak your clothing, you should disrobe./_

 “Wow.  That’s a _great_ way to get a fine or jail time.   _You’ll_ get the honors of telling my mom I was busted for skinny-dipping.”

  _/You will be in the water.  Noone will notice that you are nude./_

 “You mean until I get OUT of the water again?”

 / _If you do not want to swim today, there are other exercises we can conduct./_

 “Great.  Lay ‘em on me.”

  _/A quarter of a mile down this trail is a naturally occurring solid aggregate of composite minerals--/_

  _\--A_ **_what_ ** _now?_

 / _… Oh.  I believe you call it a ‘rock’._ /

  _Yeah.  We’re going to have to adjust your on-board dictionary…  We aren’t going to get anywhere if I can’t understand half of what you say._

  _/… I will take into account the tempering of my lexicon.  As I was saying: there is a large rock a quarter of a mile away.  You are going to pick it up./_

  _Swell._

 

Jim went where directed down the ragged bay coastline which featured any _number_ of ‘large rocks’ until Metiec indicated he stop.

“Okay, where--” _\--Where’s the rock?_

 His eyes fixated on one that was about half the size of a school bus.

“ _Not_ that one.”

 / _Did you_ **_not_ ** _want to be Captain America or Superman?/_

 “Quit joking.  It’s physically not _possible_ to lift something like that.”

 / _Allow me to prove otherwise.../_ And Metiec simply took the reins and walked Jim’s sweat-soaked body over to the massive rock.  It was the beige-brown of all similar rocks around here, and up close it looked even _larger_ , dwarfing him.  Jim’s body bent at the knees a bit and found two secure hand-holds.

  _You’re going to kill me under a giant damn rock…_

 / _Converting long-term energy stores--/_

  _You said that before.  What_ **_are_ ** _those?_

  _/Do you not have a basic understanding of your own biology, Jim?  Your body stores fat long-term for energy./_

  _I_ **_did_ ** _know that…_  But he’d never heard them referred to like _that_.

  _/Stimulating endocrine system--/_

  _\--Do you HAVE to narrate?  I’m not a battleship…_

  _/I do not understand.../_

  _It’s_ **_weird_ ** _when you talk about ‘stimulating’ or ‘activating’ or_ **_doing_ ** _things to my body.  Are you going to talk about how my liver is filtering my blood and putting the waste products in my large intestine?_

  _/You do not wish for me to tell you what I am doing to your body?/_

  _I just think it’d be more efficient if you just_ **_did it_ ** _._

  _/Certainly.  I just thought you’d want to know… and I do receive enjoyment from witnessing the concerted efforts of your biological systems to meet the requirements I place on it.  Tactiles are  so fascinating!/_

  _I_ **_really_ ** _need to work on your creepiness, Metiec…_

 Time slowed to a crawl while molten iron surged through Jim’s veins once more.  Muscles heaved, his sneakers slid slightly on the stone of the ridge just above the bay.  For a moment, Jim was convinced that _nothing_ would happen, but then the rock lifted off the ground.  A breath later it was above his head.

_Holy shit!_ **_Holy shit!  HOLY SHIT!_ ** _Metiec… !  What the heck?!_

  _/Did you think I was exaggerating, Jim?/_ Jim determined that he _definitely_ needed to work on the _sle’ek’s_ smugness while working on his creepiness, _/This display may be impressive, but it is not very practical.  It takes a great deal of time.  However, it is nice to know that, under ideal circumstances, your frame is capable of such feats./_

  _Yeah, it’s pretty badass to know I can lift a Tyrusian spaceship if I need to!_

  _/Ah.  No.  Even the smallest Tyrusian scouting ship weighs a great deal more than this, and this is almost near the current threshold your skeletal system can withstand under these gravitational forces./_

  _What?_

  _/… This is very near the_ **_most_ ** _you can lift like this without getting_ **_crushed_ ** _, Jim./_

  _Really?  Because I gotta tell you, I feel_ **_awesome_ ** _right now!  I could do this all day!_

  _/You have a fairly robust endocrine system that I am enhancing, dumping a great deal of mu opioids into your bloodstream.  In three hours, you will_ **_not_ ** _be feeling ‘awesome’./_

 

And he was right.  Three hours later, Jim had drank half a gallon of water, eaten half the contents of the refrigerator, and was dozing off in a tub of warm water.  When Metiec advised him to get out so he would not drown, moving was _torture_.

He didn’t even _make it_ to the bed.

*

 

With his host sleeping soundly in the middle of his bedroom floor,  Metiec could have been drifting idly through his dreams, or examining more memories.  But Jim’s physiology appeared to be safe from a medical relapse, proving that he _had_ indeed learned how to best manage the resources available to him and help the teenager recover rapidly.

So Metiec slipped away.

  _Sle’ek_ were bound to a single host’s consciousness for the duration of that host’s life once Consent was given.  However, that binding was with a long tether.  Most _tactiles_ required sleep, but _sle’ek_ did not, so when the conscious mind of the host was lain dormant, the _sle’ek_ were free to enjoy their dreams, or wander in their original forms once more.  They could never go far, and as soon as the host woke, they were dragged back into their mind.

Metiec had kept a _number_ of hosts from being murdered in their sleep this way.

 Though it was not danger to his host that urged him away from the temptation of Jim’s dreams-- for dreams were much like the _songs_ of _tactiles_ and therefore treasured by the _sle’ek_ in their fleetingness--  but curiousity.

 / _How long have you known, Monica Bailey?_ /  The effort expended to speak to her at this distance from his host was tremendous.  He did not think she would recognize the profound respect he was showing her by coming to speak to her at his expense in this way.

 He considered it to her great credit that she did not scream or drop her glass of water despite how his sudden speaking to her caused her to jump.

“What-What are you bothering with me for?” The woman hissed under her breath, putting the glass in her shaking hand down on the counter. “I thought it was my poor Jim you wanted…”

 / _Jim is my host.  If not for my mission, I would not have ever interfered in his life, Monica Bailey.  Furthermore, if not for Telsus’s mission, James Bailey would never have left and you would know nothing of us.  You have my profound sympathies./_

 “Your sympathies do not keep my husband and son safe, Metiec.”

 / _I assure you that Telsus and I will do all in our power to bring your family members back to you, Monica Bailey.  But you have been told the dangers this world is facing.  The Tyrusian Dragit will level your cities and devastate this world in his madness and glut for power.  David-Oosha and Cale-Oosha struggle to prevent such a fate, and Jim Bailey desires to help his friend, but the danger to_ **_everyone_ ** _remains.  You will not be able to assure yourself of Jim Bailey’s safety here in this town as opposed to any other place for much longer./_

 A sad, wry smile crossed her face as the woman leaned back against her sink, “It isn’t as if I could really _stop_ you from taking him…”

 / _I have been a mother many times.  I_ **_do_ ** _know your grief./_

 “Young men need to grow up.  That’s what they say.  But it’s not the same if an alien walks into his head and sends him away…”

 / _I am sorry._ /

 “What is _your_ mission, Metiec?  What are you going to make my boy do?”

 / _He wishes to assist David-Oosha.  I shall give him the strengths and skills and knowledge necessary to do so.  For now./_

 “You didn’t answer my question.”

 / _If Telsus did not tell you the great wrong done to the_ sle’ek _, then you do not know our purpose and telling you my mission will only cause you distress without the proper context./_

 “So… _revenge?_  Telsus said you hated violence…”

 /Sle’ek _abhor senseless death._ Tactiles _are precious.  Individuals are precious.  Without them, we ourselves cannot truly experience the universe.  Without them we are endless futility.  No purpose of ours would include or allow for unnecessary death.  A great wrong has been wrought, and this wrong has been swelling like an infected abscess across the stars.  The_ sle’ek _will cut it away.  Violence may be necessary, but it will be mitigated scrupulously.  ‘Revenge’ is too small to convey the urgent, clamoring necessity we hear moaning between the galaxies./_

 

Mrs. Bailey was quiet, considering the tiles of her floor and his words, “Why are you here?  You know Telsus did not give me any more specific of an answer than you just did.  He said he must ‘prevent a tragedy and spare this planet a cruel fate’.  That was twelve years ago.  I’ve known about the Carters since then.  What more do you want from me?”

 Straining within the form that was not a form and could not be seen, expending herculean effort that could never be witnessed or appreciated for what it was, Metiec persevered and _reached_...

 / _I want to know you, Monica Bailey._   _Telsus valued your views enough to share his existence and all else he felt beneficial to share.  Surely you will be in his song.  Telsus’s songs are quite beautiful and I will be honored to hear you in them.  In my selfishness I wish to know you and sing of you also.  Beyond that, you are an immeasurably strong and brave_ tactile _female, carrying dangerous secrets to protect not only your own family, but your neighbors and your world.  Few would be equal to this task under your circumstances._ /

 “I…” Flattered embarrassment and confusion chased blood under the woman’s cheeks, “Well I… just did the best I could.”

 / _It is better than I have seen many do._ /

 He watched her consider the floor a while longer, then she shrugged a little, offering a weak smile, “If you promise to take care of my son… I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about me, down to my dress size.”

 


	5. Young Men Leave Home

Jim was in much darker spirits when he woke late the next morning.  He observed how _rested_ he felt despite sleeping on the _floor_ , and how there wasn’t a trace of pain or achiness from yesterday's exertions, but none of that really _mattered_.

He’d had disturbing dreams…

It didn’t _matter_ that he had lifted a giant boulder over his head yesterday, and didn’t hurt today, and might eventually become a superhero like ‘Captain America’ because David was still _gone_ and the invasion was still _coming soon_ and rocks were still falling from the sky.  And he was still just _one guy_ .  He didn’t even know where David _was_ now, much less how to stop asteroids from being controlled by the _dark side of the moon_.

/ _Your mental condition is very likely a result of mu opiod imbalance caused by yesterday’s increased demand.  You will feel better as this imbalance corrects itself over time./_

“Sure…” Sighing, Jim dressed and went out the front door and over to the garage door.  The ghost-alien could talk about things like they were a bunch of parts or chemical formulas or whatever, but Jim had a much easier explanation: So many things were going _wrong_ and he was overwhelmed on how to make _any_ of them _right_.

David’s Tyrusian bike was parked there with the bag still hanging off one handlebar.  David had wanted him to secure his bag, and he’d managed to do that… but now David was _gone_ and the whole world was going to hell.

/ _How strange.../_

Jim sighed, “Do I want to know?”

/ _Your distress for your friend is understandable.  However, you have associated your distress over his capture very closely with your distress over the fate of your planet-- as if he holds the key to the salvation of Earth.  This is strange.  And erroneous.  David-Oosha is no more capable than we are of affecting change to ensure a more agreeable future for this world.../_ To Jim, Metiec sounded a little irritated as well as confused.

 _But_ **_he’s_ ** _‘David-Oosha’.  The one everyone is after!  His father is leading the resistance!  What he does_ **_matters._ **

_/He is a half-blooded Tyrusian, like_ **_many_ ** _on this planet.  His bloodline does not set him apart.  In fact, if not for the Exotar, he would not even_ **_be_ ** _‘David-Oosha’.  His value to the Dragit is only equal to his legitimacy as a symbol to the Ooshati.  If Cale-Oosha lives-- and I strongly suspect that he does-- then David-Oosha is not necessary as far as the Tyrusians and the Dragit are concerned.  Regardless of_ **_any_ ** _of this, Jim, that half-blood is no more capable than_ **_we are_ ** _of affecting change in this war_ **_if you choose it._ ** _The Tyrusians have no more stake in the fate of this world than humans do.  Your leaders are at a loss.  They are not sufficient as a symbol./_

Jim thought he was starting to understand what the _sle’ek_ was getting at, but then his mother came out of the house, “David’s all right, Jim, I just know--”

“-- You don’t understand, mom.  He’s _gone_ , the invasion is coming and--”

/ _And…?/_  Definitely some irritation there in Metiec’s tone.  It cut the teenager’s words off and forced him to reconsider his train of thought even before his mother replied.

“Jim _listen_ to me.  You can’t give up hope--”

She was interrupted by ‘Doc’s voice from the communications orb-- or _whatever_ it was supposed to be-- from the backpack. “Callin’ David Carter… _Callin’_ David Carter… Come _in_ , David Carter… Hey kid, you there?”

“I-is there a radio on?” Mom asked.

“It’s Doc!” Jim was already opening the bag to retrieve the orb, “Hey-hey Doc, is Jim… Uh Jim Bailey!”

Doc seemed somewhat _different_ from the last time Jim had seen him in the orb-- the night in the mall, before that _psychopath_ had shown up-- Now his long hair was cut and his beard trimmed into a professional goatee.  Likewise, his rough desert clothing had been replaced with a long white coat-- a lab coat maybe?-- and collared shirt with tie.  The latter he kept tugging at, clearly unused to his new fashion. “ _Finally_ .  Look, Jim, I gotta reach the kid.  Things are moving _fast_ .  The Ooshati think the Dragit’s gonna get _cocky_ … maybe move up the invasion.”

Jim didn’t much like how Doc kept looking around, as if someone might overhear him.  He also wasn’t sure he liked that the Dragit being ‘cocky’ was moving up the invasion as opposed to throwing giant space rocks from the dark side of the moon.  Or, you know, _staging_ an invasion of Earth _at all._

“W...w-- Can’t they do anything to _stop it_?”

The Tyrusian shook his head grimly, “Not enough of ‘em.  But I’ve got a plan…”

Mom had come up behind him, curious about the object and the person speaking. “W-Well what can we do to help?”

 _Looking_ at her, Jim was surprised.  Just _the other day_ she was throwing a _fit_ about how he’d let the _sle’ek_ into his head, and now she wanted to _help_.

/ _Your mother understands the necessity of action to save your planet, Jim./_ Was the wry quip only he could hear.

Doc’s expression was confusion mixed with concern, so Jim supplied an introduction, “Uh, this is my mom.”

The old Tyrusian smirked and adjusted his tie again, “Well _hello_ …”

Jim kind of regretted the introduction now, and didn’t do himself the disservice of looking to see what kind of expression his mother was making.  He could tell she was blushing by the way she nervously brought her hand up toward her hair, as if to fuss with it.

Something must have shown on his expression, because Doc cleared his throat, “... Okay.  Find the kid, tell him I’m at _Mosquito Lagoon_ in Florida.  Have him meet me there.”

In his mind’s eye, the teen could ‘see’ the _sle’ek_ ’s expression contort with frustration and his mouth open as if he intended to say something several times.

 _Something on your mind?_  But Metiec only made a disapproving sound-- which was an odd thing to ‘hear’ in his head.

And that he could now catalogue vocalizations that weren’t words from a disembodied voice in his head as ‘weird’, but _words_ from a disembodied voice in his head as _not weird_ was a true testament to just how _insane_ Jim Bailey’s life had become in just a few days…

Problem. “W… But I don’t know how to _reach_ him…”

“Wait a minute,” Mom drew both of their attentions and pulled a business card out of her cardigan pocket along with her reading glasses, “Would it help to locate… Sergeant Angie Romar?”

Sergeant Romar had _been there_ when David was taken.  If _anybody_ would have a better idea of where David might be, it would be _her_ , right?  He smiled at his mom, “I think it _would_ , mom…”

She handed him the card and he looked it over while Doc talked on.

“Great.  Get in contact with him and pass along the news.  We don’t have a lot of _time_ to fiddle around either, Jim…”

“I know that.  I’ll get him there.”

“All right.”  The orb went dark again, so Jim secured it and went to get the cordless phone.  Mom returned to the kitchen.

 

After dialing the number on the card, the line rang once before picking up on the other end, “Romar.”

“Hi, Sergeant Romar.  It’s Jim… Jim Bailey.  From before...” She’d likely remember him.  They probably weren’t good memories, and it made him grimace.

“Hey!” But she didn’t _sound_ upset, so that was good. “Hey, how _are_ you?”

It was nice that she seemed to care.  His mom had trusted her enough to take her card, so she couldn’t be _all_ bad… “I’m fine.  All good.  Do you know where David is?”

“Yeah, he’s right _here_.  Hold on…”

Jim barely heard the phone changing hands, his heart in his throat.   _He’s right here_.

“... Hello…?”

“Holy _shit_ , man…”

“Jim!”

“David!  I don’t believe it!” But there wasn’t time for his disbelief, “Listen man, bad news: Doc says the invasion’s gonna be moved up…”

“How soon?”

“He didn’t say… But he’s got a plan.  He wants you to meet him in Florida.”

“ _Where_ in Florida?”

“A place called ‘Mosquito Lagoon’.”

“We’ll find it.   _Thanks_ man.”

“You can thank me in person.  I’m coming too.”

_/And here I thought you’d do little more than dread as doom descends.../_

“Jim… Listen, it could be dangerous…”

“I don’t wanna _hear it_ .  I’m coming.  I’ll get there _somehow_.”

“You’re _crazy_ , man.” But there was approval in David’s voice.

Jim chuckled, “You don’t know the half of it… See you soon.”

 

Hanging up, Jim considered the Tyrusian bike. _Metiec… You wouldn’t happen to know--_

/-- _It is a function of will.  I can operate it./_

_For… about twenty hours?  That’s how far Florida is…_

Jim could swear the _sle’ek_ rolled his eyes. _/For twenty ages if required, Jim./_

 _Okay.  Now I_ **_know_ ** _you’re pissy about something…_

_/If I was speaking out of irritation, I would inform you that “twenty hours” is a measure of time, not distance.  Time over distance is subject to many changing factors--/_

_\--Consider me corrected.  Ah crap, my helmet is with my old bike…_

_/I believe this vehicle can create protective gear./_

“What?”

/ _Tyrusian technology is admirable indeed.  There is an orb inserted on the top of the bike.  Place your hand over it./_

 

Jim did as he was told, intrigued.  There was no immediate reaction, but Metiec was narrating again…

/ _Lowering blood pressure.../_

_\--Don’t I need that blood pressure?--_

_/You may have an adverse neurological response--/_

_Like what?_

_/… A small panic attack.  Energizing your frontal lobe in this way may cause you to have a panic attack.  Lowering your blood pressure will lessen the risk./_

_If you say so...  Just don’t put me back in the ER._

_/Of course.  Energizing.../_

Quite suddenly, Jim had the distinct impression that someone had just jammed an ice pick through the center of his forehead, causing him to become temporarily blinded.  Then it was gone and his palm was just slightly warm.

/ _Ah.  This is most satisfactory./_

_It’s not going to do that every time, is it?_

_/It should not./_

_Good… because doing that while riding will make this a really short trip…_

A panel on the side of the bike frame, just to the side of the orb, fanned open and a small rectangle-- looking much like a tube of lipstick-- ejected.  Taking it, Jim raised an eyebrow.

“Did you ask it for lipstick?”

 _/We have no use for lipstick./_  Jim’s hand opened and his eyes focused intensely on the metal rectangle.  His pulse was loud in his ears.

Then the rectangle began _unfolding_.  Faster and faster it rolled out into a larger and larger roundish surface before taking on the distinctive shape of a full helmet with a lightly tinted face shield.  It was predominantly a dark grey, but there were two wide stripes of red at the back.  When he put it on, it fit perfectly.

 _Wow.  Can it make_ **_anything_ ** _?_

/ _It cannot make anything organic-- such as food.  It can change its operations to hover, however./_

 _It_ **_flies_ ** _?_

 _/Hovers./_ Metiec corrected.

_What about fuel?_

_/Tyrusian technology is largely photon-based.  The primary energy cells for this vehicle are solar, but there is a fusion core as well for secondary power./_

_‘Fusion’?  Like_ **_nuclear power?_ **

The glasses were adjusted while the red brows pinched together, _/Yes, but you are thinking of nuclear_ **_fission_ ** _.  I am referring to nuclear_ **_fusion._ ** _Atoms are not splitting, they are combining.  This is what powers stars, not what you use in your highly-controversial power plants./_

_Star power, then.  Awesome.  Start ‘er up.  We got miles to go…_

 

His hand returned to hover over the orb.  There was another brief flash of heat at his palm and then the bike roared to life as he mounted it. _Doesn’t_ **_sound_ ** _like it’s a solar vehicle…_

/ _I believe some modifications were made to this vehicle so it would blend in better with your combustion engine vehicles./_

Mom came out again with a brown paper bag, which she passed to him.

“What’s this?”

“Well, you can’t save the world on an empty stomach,” She offered.  Jim chuckled ruefully, “I’m a mom.  It’s what I do.”

For a fleeting moment, as he looked at her, Jim had this terrible notion that it would be the last time he saw her.  He gathered her into a hug, which she returned.

“I’m so very proud of you Jim…” She murmured.  He couldn’t manage a reply, his throat suddenly constricted.  Instead he released her and released the brake on the bike, driving away.  She waved.  He waved back.

/ _When this is done, you will return, Jim.  It will be well./_

 _I_ **_know._ ** _Shut up._ For the moment, Jim really wished he _didn’t_ have an alien in his head listening to his thoughts.

/... _Then did you_ **_not_ ** _want me to inform you of the half-breed twins tailing you in the blue sedan?/_

_What?!_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. CT-15

It was on a lonely stretch of CT-15 outside of Stratford, Connecticut where Jim stopped the Tyrusian bike and prepared to confront the twins.  He wasn’t about to lead them all the way to Florida, much less all the way to David.  Jim wanted to get the cops involved, but Metiec had wisely pointed out that the police would have various difficult questions  _ and _ the twins were telekinetic and would pose a danger to the police as well as any civilians.  The  _ sle’ek _ recommended dealing with them alone where there would be less risk of casualties.

The blue sedan pulled to the side of the road, several yards behind where Jim was standing behind where he’d stopped the bike.  The blonde woman had been driving and she got out while the far less stable man sat in the front passenger seat and glared his bubbling hatred but did nothing more.

_ That’s odd… _

_ /His hand has been severely damaged and is currently unusable.  From the types and number of fractures, evidence suggests he tried to wear the Exotar while David-Oosha was in his custody./ _

_ David’s glove? _

_ /The Exotar is a powerful Tyrusian device that enhances and directs the telekinetic strength of its wearer.  However, it is built with inherent safeguards so that only individuals that are blood-descendants of the royal line can wear it./ _

_ So not only is David  _ **_really_ ** _ an alien prince, but he’s an alien prince who  _ **_also_ ** _ has E.S.P mind-magic… _

_ /”E.S.P.” stands for “extrasensory perception”.  It is best used to describe the ability called “precognition”, and is for using force of will to gain information otherwise unobtainable by the physical senses.  Tyrusians  _ **_do_ ** _ have a broad range of telepathic abilities, but I do not think precognition is one of them… Telekinesis is a separate branch of psychic ability which involves the manipulation of matter with the mind--/ _

_ \--Got it.  Thanks.  Let’s stay on task, huh? _

The blonde half-Tyrusian woman was approaching him, and he could see a gun in her hand, which she raised after coming to a stop, not eight feet away.

“You  _ have _ to take us to David Carter.”

_ He’s picked up some pretty serious stalkers here… _

_ /Likely they are hunting him for the Dragit.../ _

_ So you’re saying the  _ **_Dragit_ ** _ is the serious stalker? _

_ /Hm.  So it would seem./ _

_ Was that almost a laugh, Metiec?~ _

_ /I thought you desired to stay on task, Jim?/ _

He couldn’t  _ really _ help it.  The gun pointed at him made him nervous, and Jim always tried to crack jokes when he was nervous, “Oh  _ great _ .  And if I  _ don’t _ ?  What are you gonna do?  Shoot me?”

Even to Jim, it was obvious the woman was trying to  _ sound _ much tougher than she felt, “If I have to…”

_ /It will take a great deal of conviction on her part to fire that weapon.  More than she can summon alone, Jim./  _ Metiec observed calmly.

_ How sure of that are you?  _  The teenager was less than thrilled about gambling with getting shot.

Metiec remained soberly placid,  _ /Quite sure.  I can hear her from here./ _

_ ‘Hear her’?  Like her mind? _

_ /Indeed… Wait!--/ _

Suddenly the sedan’s engine roared and the tires squealed as the gas was stomped down while the transmission was slammed into drive and the brakes released.

The woman turned, levelling the pistol with the blonde male half-blood who was now in the driver’s seat, an oily smug smile on his face and his brow cinched with maliciousness, “Simon!”

The car was bearing down on them.  ‘Simon’ intended to run the  _ both _ of them over!

_ Metiec…? _ Jim stepped  _ backwards _ , feeling his muscles clenching as he prepared to jump to the side.

_ /I can reach him… No, he does not listen.  He  _ **_wants_ ** _ to kill you both… He will take the pistol from Sonia Lear after hitting her./ _

_ But isn’t that his sister?  What’s  _ **_wrong_ ** _ with this psycho?! _

Metiec’s voice took on a serious urgency,  _ /Jim--/ _

\-- _ Yup!  Go for it!  _  Unsure how exactly to go about it, Jim tried to ‘brace himself’ for what was to come...

_ /Assuming direct control!/ _  Once more molten iron blazed through Jim’s veins and time slowed-- not nearly as significantly as that first time.  The car bore down on the blonde woman who was screaming her brother’s name once more, her voice distorted and stretched to his hearing, but otherwise frozen in shock and fear.

Through him, Metiec  _ reached _ , fire building between his eyebrows, and Jim became acutely aware of the pistol in Sonia’s hand.  How she tilted it slightly to the right, how her wrist suddenly corrected.  How her finger moved to the trigger--

_ “No I can’t!” _ Sonia screamed, panicked in the cavern of Jim’s head, “ _ I can’t!  I can’t!” _

_ /He will kill you./ _ Metiec told her pragmatically.

\-- and clamped down.  The machine-action of the pistol recoiled through her forearm.  Again.  As light and heat flared at the muzzle of the weapon, Simon’s expression twisted into one of naked hate and shock.

But the car was still coming.

/ _ Simon Lear!  Stop your assault or I will be forced to  _ **_terminate_ ** _ you.  Your efforts already have caused you grevious wounds.../ _

But Simon had apparently abandoned his sense along with his sanity, “ _ Blow it out your ass, ear-worm!” _

Disheartened, Jim extended his right arm toward the car and made a simple gesture with his hand.  With his movement, the vehicle’s back end launched into the air with powerful abruptness, flipping it  _ over _ Sonia, Jim, and the Tyrusian motorcycle, and onto its hood before inertia sent it sliding, and then  _ rolling sideways _ down the ridge alongside the road.  Both heard it come to a sudden stop at the bottom in a crash of steel and glass.

“Simon!   _ Simon! _ ” Dropping the still-smoking pistol, the blonde female ran to the edge of the ridge, looking frantically for a safe way down to reach the twisted wreckage and her brother.  Jim remained, bending in half to put his hands on his knees as the  _ sle’ek _ released ‘direct control’ of his body back to him.

_ … Did you…?  Is… he really…? _

_ /I cannot hear him any longer./ _ Metiec’s voice was solemn, and Jim got the distinct impression that he was not pleased with his accomplishment this time.

_ … He would have killed us. _

_ /I would not have permitted his killing you, Jim./ _

_ I know.  That’s why you did it. _  There was a queasy feeling in the teenager’s belly he was sure wasn’t associated with the dizziness and throbbing headache he was experiencing.  He’d just killed a guy…

Well… Metiec had.  With his body.  With his  _ mind _ .

And… that guy had been a serious asshole… had threatened to kill him  _ twice  _ now… Had abducted David...

But  _ still… _

The woman was still wailing, pacing frantically at the top of the ridge, her brother’s name devolving into wordless sobs.  With a steadying breath, head still throbbing, Jim went to collect the abandoned pistol.  Metiec assisted him in switching the safety on and checking the magazine-- 10 rounds left--  and slipped it into his jacket pocket before heading over to the bike and stowing it under the seat.  Then he drug himself over to where Sonia was cradling her head and rocking violently on her feet.

Looking down over the ridge, Jim saw the undercarriage of the blue sedan that had landed on its nose, folding it accordion style as it was wedged between the ridge and a large tree.  Enough smoke was rising to convince the blonde that a fire was not long to come, and the folding of the front end as well as how the smoke seemed to also be pouring out of the broken passenger side window led him to wonder if the engine block didn’t currently reside in Simon’s  _ lap _ .  Taking a breath while a cold sensation of dread spread through his guts, Jim considered trying to climb down to pull him out.

/ _ The noise and smoke will draw police here shortly.  We must go now or risk being detained for lengthy questioning.../ _

_ Not an option.  But… What about  _ **_her_ ** _? _

Metiec didn’t answer.

Sonia seemed to have recovered some, “Why did you… what did you…?!”

“He would have killed  _ both _ of us.” Was all Jim could say as he headed back to the Tyrusian bike.

Sonia had a strange, vacant, almost  _ wistful _ expression on her face.

_ Metiec…? _

_ /I am discussing with her.  One moment.../  _ Was the reply, / _ Return to the bike and we will make another helmet./ _

_ Why?  Wait, is she coming with us?! _

_ /I am discussing with her--/ _

_ Were you NOT going to discuss this with ME?! _

Metiec now appeared even younger, somewhere in his twenties.  The glasses and goatee were gone, and his red brows cinched together while his not-unattractive face expressed a careful mix of apology and confusion,  _ /Did you not intend to leave this decision to me when asking ‘What about her?’, Jim?/ _

_ I was looking for information and suggestions, Metiec, not being cut out of the Executive office! _

_ /… “Executive office”--” _

_ \--It’s an expression!  I don’t want you just cutting me out of decisions when it has everything to do with my body! _

_ /I see.  In that case: I am persuading her to accompany us./ _

_ So I’ve heard. _ Jim didn’t bother trying to conceal the dripping sarcasm.

/ _ She had a psychic dependency on her brother-- more than just for her telekinesis.  She was severely emotionally and psychologically dependent upon him.  My intention is to transfer that dependence to myself./ _

_ To  _ **_you_ ** _ or to  _ **_me_ ** _?   _ Jim wondered if there’d be any kind of real difference.  _ Is she going to help us or just keep trying to abduct David? _

_ /She  _ **_released_ ** _ David-Oosha from captivity, Jim.  I do not anticipate her being a threat to our goals.  Quite the contrary, I have already noted how she might be of use to us./ _ The  _ sle’ek _ sounded rather pleased with his own shrewdness.  Jim reminded himself again on how he needed to work on Metiec’s creepiness and smugness.

_ Well I guess it’s a little late to vote ‘no’... _

_ /Ah.  A… bit.  Yes.  I do apologize./ _

The teenager returned to the bike and extended his hand over the orb.  He felt his focus shift and thankfully it was not accompanied by the ‘ice-pick’ sensation.  Instead it was replaced with a scratchy feeling, and then heat between his brows and at his palm.

/ _ You are adapting rather remarkably to casual use of will functions./ _

_ If that’s you trying to butter me up, don’t bother. _

The side panel popped open again and there was another ‘lipstick tube’ that Jim pulled out.

Sonia came over to the bike, her expression nothing short of awkward anticipation under the blotchy redness from her crying, “O-okay.”

“Yeah?  Okay?” He was glad she was done crying for now.  Maybe it made him a bit of a jerk, but he’d decided after seeing his mom doing so that he really couldn’t handle seeing women cry.

“I’ll… I’ll help him.”

“Great.  Just a second.” Once again Jim’s attention focused on the lipstick tube and once more in began unfolding rapidly, shaping itself into a motorcycle helmet to match the first.  Once finished, he rubbed his forehead and passed the gear over. “Put that on, and get on.”

He was putting his own helmet on and mounting the bike when an explosion down the bank signalled the fate of the blue sedan.  Smoke and flames sprung high up the tree.

Sonia flinched but did not look back.  Jim found himself wondering what Metiec had  _ said _ to her.  The blonde woman mounted the Tyrusian bike behind him and held on to his back.

They were on their way once more as the whine of a siren threaded through the air.


	7. Stalkers in the South

The nice thing about driving cross-country on the East coast was that it was a straight-shot down I-95.  Being on a motorcycle gave him superior mobility between lanes, even when traffic started to congest.

Being on a motorcycle also meant frequent stops even _despite_ the lack of need to refuel.  Star-power or not, between the engine and the road, every muscle in Jim’s body cramped and every bone ached.  He was reminded of how his mother had only really approved his use of his dad’s motorcycle because he wouldn’t ever be going _far_ or encounter any really busy roads.  Sonia, too, seemed glad for the reprieves, though he learned she was somewhat more accustomed to longer-distant commutes for her work.

She didn’t speak much to him, but apparently she and Metiec were going over her history, which the _sle’ek_ relayed to Jim.

_This General Gordon guy sounds like a real psycho… Killing Dr. Lear just because David got away?  I mean, she was a scientist not a soldier!_

_/Indeed, and the presence of the_ metamorph _is disturbing.../_

_Sounds like a_ **_nightmare monster._ ** _But… at least that genetic hybrid project is shut down.  Imagine a whole army of crazies…_

_/I would not embrace relief so soon, Jim.  The project may have been_ **_seized_ ** _instead of dismantled.  In the hands of Tyrusians, led by this General Gordon, the project may advance without any concern for standards of safety.../_

_I hope you’re wrong._

_/As do I.../_ Metiec remarked grimly, _/I do not care to dwell on the amount of senseless_ tactile _suffering that might be achieved./_

 

Sonia’s wasn’t a nice story, but it passed a lot of the time on the long ride.  Another negative of long-distance motorcycle travel: no stereo.

 

_/Jim, we must accomplish further training,/_ The _sle’ek_ had had an almost dour tone the whole day ever since leaving the blue sedan with Simon in it on CT-15. _/In no way do I implicate you in what became of Simon Lear-- all decisions and actions are mine to bear the consequence-- but a greater range of options will become available should your body become more accustomed to wielding my power./_

Jim choked, somewhere between angry and guilty for several long seconds, _You don’t implicate me, but you’re saying you had to kill Simon because I was_ **_too weak_ ** _?!_

_/No.  Jim, I goaded you to take action and meet with David knowing the limit of the progress we have made.  I delayed in beginning any such training despite knowing it would need to be conducted to succeed in our goals.  Certainly there were other vectors I could have chosen to deal with Simon Lear.  His termination was the consequence of my decisions, actions, and inaction.  Not yours.  I did not bring up the subject to negotiate guilt or blame, only to insist that for all future encounters, it would be best for the both of us to be better prepared.  Do you not agree?/_

“What’s wrong?” Sonia called loudly, barely heard between the traffic, their speed, and their helmets.

“Nothing.” Jim replied, wrestling with the strong emotions that tumbled through him every time his mind replayed the images.

 

Metiec spoke again, and the concern in his tone almost made Jim angry all over again, _/… That confrontation has left a traumatic impression upon your psyche--/_

_It’s fine._ **_I’m_ ** _fine.  I’ll be stronger next time, alright?_

_/Jim, it is not necessary for you--/_

_Stop trying to make me feel better!  It’s not helping!_

_/...I will comply with your wishes./_

 

The hours of silence that followed did not help either, but Jim didn’t know what he could say that might be of any use.  Simon Lear was dead because Jim’s body wasn’t able to handle all of what Metiec could do.  Or Metiec couldn’t do the right kinds of things with Jim’s body when he controlled it.

Because Jim was still _Jim_ instead of Captain America or Superman.

Or David Carter.

*

 

It was already dark by the time they stopped _just inside_ Savannah, Georgia, and this time, it was Sonia who stopped them.

“What?  What?” Jim demanded, bewildered when she suddenly clenched her hands through his jacket and told him to stop.

“The Tyrusians!”

Pulling into the corner gas station, he teenager wasn’t sure what she meant until Metiec drew his attention to the black sedan parked in an alley, nose out.

“What are they doing here?”

Sonia shook her helmet and ducked her head behind his shoulder, “Looking for me and my brother…”

Parked unobtrusively as they were, Jim thought they were probably safe to continue, but then he considered…

_I bet they’d recognize this bike, huh?_

_/It_ **_is_ ** _Tyrusian technology.  It would likely attract their notice./_ Metiec agreed.

_… Can we hide it somewhere?  Tuck it in some bushes near a motel, catch a few z’s and continue south when they’re not looking?_

Because Jim was _exhausted_ and every part of his body protested his doing _anything_ besides _lying down._

_/If you put the vehicle in a place where it will not be interfered with, I believe I can activate its camouflage./_

_It comes with_ **_camouflage_ ** _?!  This bike does everything!... Except make food._  He and Sonia had already made short work of the sandwiches his mom had packed, and now, well past dinner time, he was _so hungry_.

Driving behind the gas station and looking around for anybody smoking or loitering back there, Jim parked and had Sonia dismount.

_Okay, I know you’re going to tell me it’s a ‘function of will’ but how do we make this thing camouflage itself?_

Metiec didn’t answer, though in his mind’s eye, he saw the red haired man raise an eyebrow and struggle to keep the curl of a smirk off his mouth.  Instead, Jim’s hand hovered over the orb on the motorcycle and a scratchy feeling returned between his brows.  Then, there was an almost liquid shift to the colors of the bike before it vanished from sight altogether!

Sonia removed her helmet and handed it to the blonde teen, “What’s going on?”

“Taking a break, finding somewhere to crash for a bit.  At least until the goons look somewhere else.”  Jim dismounted the invisible bike awkwardly, unsure where exactly it was in relation to his legs and not wanting to kick it over.  Then he took Sonia’s helmet and placed it _about_ where he thought the throttle grips were.  To his surprise, it vanished upon contact.

_Well… that’s better than I thought would happen._

_/All materials made from the bike are attuned to its frequencies for the camouflage effect./_

With a bit of blind groping, he placed his own helmet on the seat.

_If we need to get out of here in a hurry, I’m gonna need you to help me find this again..._

_/Certainly./_

“Keep an eye out,” Jim told the woman who was folding her arms in a decidedly very self-conscious way, “There might be more of those guys.  Any idea what they’re doing here ahead of us?”

She gave him a long look, as if trying to decide whether to try and sound tough or not, then just shook her head.

Stepping in the side door, they inquired of the gas station clerk where they might find affordable lodgings for the night.  They were pointed in the direction of several generic options-- all the really _scenic_ and _touristy_ Savannah places were further East and closer to downtown and the coast.  Most places around here serviced truckers and the seldom overnight layover out of the airport.  Exiting the side door and avoiding the facing main road that led directly back to the onramp, they walked a block and a half before Sonia halted and grabbed Jim’s arm.

At the same time, Metiec turned his head and drew his eyes to a figure just turning the corner a few streets ahead to come toward them.  In the dark and under flickering streetlights, Jim could only make out that the person was tall and dressed in a trench coat and fedora.  There was also a palpable _menace_ that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Turning the very next corner, they jogged to cut through the superstore parking lot.

“Are they following us?” Jim muttered.

“I don’t know!” The hybrid hissed back.

Only a small median of grass separated this parking lot from the one for the cheap motel they were heading for, but upon gaining the grass they discovered two _more_ of the trench-coat-and-fedora figures loitering in the motel parking lot.  Ducking back behind the bushes, Jim turned to Sonia, “If we just walk in casual--”

“--They’ll recognize me!” She whispered.

They cut back through the superstore parking lot toward the back of the store where a tall fence separated the shipping lot from the parking lot for a fast food joint.  Metiec pointed out another black sedan cruising slowly down the street, apparently searching the parking lots.

_Okay, they are_ **_definitely_ ** _following us!_   _Either that, or something big is going on and they’re all gathered here!_

_/They are difficult to hear… Some kind of defense is preventing me from hearing them clearly./_

After the car passed, the two climbed the fence and then headed across the street toward another motel.  The moment their feet touched the sidewalk on the other side, Sonia made a strange groan in her throat and began _running_ for the motel.  Jim started to call after her, but then his attention went to the trench-coat-and-fedora pair getting out of a stopped black car at the bar just next door.  Jim ran after the hybrid.

Catching up to her, they both stumbled to a halt, Jim’s hand on her elbow, as they noted a _third_ specifically dressed figure turn the corner of the motel.

“He sees us… He definitely sees us…” Jim gulped, “The ones behind us too…”

“We have to run--”

“--Where?  They’re _everywhere_!”

 

/ _Jim--/_ But Metiec was interrupted by a soft, unaffected voice and the clicking of heels on pavement, “This way.”

Both blonde heads turned together to see two figures in black clothing, creating long silhouettes of deeper darkness.  But the young woman who spoke had a face as pale as the moon framed by her long black hair.  Both were tall, walking arm in arm from the median between the bar and the motel parking lots where some scrubby bushes were planted.  Jim did not spend too much time wondering what they might be _doing_ over there-- or what _anybody_ did over there.  Instead he looked around again, noticing that the two trench coat figures must have either gotten back in the car and driven away, or had turned a different way after being dropped off and that the third figure by the motel hadn’t yet moved.  Still holding Sonia’s elbow, he trotted to follow the mysterious black-clad pair.

_Is this a bad idea, Metiec?  I… really don’t know what else to do..._

Metiec’s reply was a more _intrigued_ than concerned, and Jim took that as a good sign.   _/These two individuals are both humans.  The human male is a protector of the human female and noted that you and Sonia appeared to be distressed.  The human female is very difficult to hear… She has some of the strongest mental defenses I’ve experienced on your world!/_

_What does_ **_that_ ** _mean?_

_/Truly, I do not yet know!/_

_Well, while you’re getting all excited about that… help me figure out what we’re going to do about our stalkers, okay?_

The _sle’ek_ didn’t respond, and Jim figured he agreed with following the two humans who had, apparently, come to their aide.

They were a strange pair.  Circling the bar provided better light with which to see that they seemed to be dressed to match.  Both wore all black, though _he_ had a few silver and white accents and _she_ a few burgundy ones.  Otherwise, Jim could only really comprehend a lot of ribbons and ruffles and lace.   _He_ was in some kind of suit and _she_ wore a long dress and a corset.  Both wore black gloves-- _his_ might be leather, while _hers_ were longer fingerless black lace.  Both had dark hair and a very upright, refined posture.

Sonia gave Jim a look before nervously looking around.

“Uh… where are we going?” The teen asked.

“... Somewhere safe, where we can talk.” The woman turned her pale face over her shoulder to speak to him, and just before the shadow of the taller man plunged her back into silhouette, Jim saw black lipstick and eyeshadow.

_Okay, yeah, they’re both really,_ **_seriously_ ** _, very goth…_  There were a _few_ goth kids in school, but none seemed to have the same kind of dedication-- or resources-- as these two.  Jim didn’t know much about them except the ‘wearing all black and acting moody’, but they usually didn’t have the best reputations.  And something about cultism.  And vampires.   _Metiec, are you_ **_sure_ ** _this is a good idea?_

 

_/I do not detect any harmful intentions…  Jim, it is not wise for you to harbor negative feelings for a culture you do not understand.  This is especially true_ **_now_ ** _that you are encountering individuals who are not even_ **_human._ ** _/_

_Well, do_ **_you_ ** _understand goth culture?_

Metiec beamed, the expression rendering his features even more handsome, _/I do not.  But I am very eager to learn./_

_Yeah, I kind of figured…_

 

Behind the bar parking lot they passed through the parking lot for a barbecue restaurant and then turned down the street for half a block.  They walked quickly, but in an unhurried manner despite seeing three more trench-coats-and-fedoras in passing that made Sonia want to start _running_ again.

_Does she know what they are?  Do_ **_you_ ** _?_

_/I have heard from here that they are ‘_ ga’lim’. _Agents for the Tyrusian government tasked with clandestine operations./_

_So… spies?_

_/In this case, I think they are operating as_ **_assassins_ ** _, Jim./_

_Great._

They entered a hotel-- one of the more expensive ones the gas attendant had mentioned to them-- and inside, the goth pair were that much more eye-catching and strange.  Jim was pretty sure the man at the desk gave them an awkward glance before looking aside.

Stopping briefly at their first floor room door, the young woman in black pulled out the card key and unlocked the door.  The man courteously opened it and the woman swept in.  Still holding the door open, the goth man silently gestured for them to enter.  Jim couldn’t read the expression on his neatly trimmed bearded face, but his eyes were hard and calculating.  He wasn’t a man Jim wanted to cross.  The blondes went in, Jim having finally released Sonia’s elbow at the hotel lobby.

Inside the room had two large beds-- queen size, Jim guessed-- and a loveseat.  Another goth man was standing up from where he’d been sitting at the loveseat, reading a tattoo magazine and a third person could be heard in the bathroom behind the closed door.  The TV across from the beds was on, and apparently turned to the national news channel where the reports of more asteroids being launched from the moon and the panic it was causing.  Apparently the President was going to hold a press conference soon.

 

But Jim’s attention was on the goth woman, because once the door closed--and _locked--_ behind them, she turned and faced them with a black revolver in her hand pointed directly at Sonia’s face.  As if on cue, the goth man that had walked with her drew a pistol as did the man on the couch.

Sonia, only a touch slower, started to reach for her jacket pocket-- for _what_ , Jim had no idea-- but he grabbed her wrist and forced a smile.

“So uh… I don’t think this is necessary…”

_I thought you said this was safe!_

_/Hmm.../_

_Metiec!_

There was no trace of humor-- or much of anything-- on the woman’s pale, black-accented face.

“You’re one of _them_ ,” She said coolly to the other woman, “One of the aliens.”

**Author's Note:**

> OCs: Metiec, Telsus (James Bailey)
> 
> Original Species (OS): Sle'ek
> 
> Got questions? Want to talk about it? [Here's your mic! ](https://mtraki.tumblr.com/ask)


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